Tough Love
by The Providence Crow
Summary: Who could be crazy enough to fall for a cold, unfeeling sadist like Sima Yi? A naive, overly emotional masochist like Zhang He. Very dark yaoi featuring an emotionally and physically abusive relationship, sadomasochism, and adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

**Ch. 1**

**Disclaimer: "I'm bound to you by love, and it cuts like razor wire."**

Zhang He stared at the drop of blood on his sheets. It wasn't such a big deal, really. After all, Sima Yi had done much worse to him in the past. For some reason, though, this particular drop seemed to stand out—no, scream out---to him, a single splash of red on the pure white expanse of linen. He touched an elegant finger to his split lip, presumably where the blood had come from. It had re-opened itself after healing nicely for a few days. He had a lot of cuts and bruises these days, and if people asked, he told them they were from battle, or sparring. They weren't. The split lip he had gotten when Sima Yi had backhanded him across the face for taking to long to undress. The bruises and cuts he'd acquired during the brutal onslaught of violence and savage desire that passed for sex with the sadistic strategist. Not that Zhang He was complaining; he had invited it, after all. Begged for it, really. He thought back to the first time Sima Yi took him. It had been just after the particularly stunning defeat at Chi Bi, when the notoriously bad-tempered genius had confined himself to his room. Zhang He had been younger then—they both had---and had thought he could change the other man for the better. He had thought he could make him happy. Now, he wasn't so sure. His infatuation with Sima Yi had been long standing; ever since he had first met him, brooding and serious and totally unlike Zhang He, he had found himself instantly drawn to and intrigued by him, living proof that opposites attract.

He had gone up to Sima Yi's room that day, against his express wishes that no one disturb him, because he couldn't bear knowing that the man he loved was upset and alone. It was foolish, really. What could have possibly made him think he was in love when he'd barely had more than a conversation with the man in the entire three months since he'd defected to Wei? But that was how he had felt—and still did, improbable though it was (except now, he'd had a good deal more than a conversation or two). At any rate, he had simply let himself in when no one had answered his knocking, and found himself greeted by a rather unfriendly death glare. "I thought I made it clear that I didn't want to disturbed, General Zhang He." The Butterfly General looked at the ground, shy and nervous to be speaking to his object of affection. "I thought I could make you feel better," he mumbled. Sima Yi sneered. "Did you? How _sweet_. What were you planning, pray tell? Were you going to _dance_ for me?" Zhang He recoiled from the biting sarcasm, but secretly rejoiced. He was a glutton for abuse. "I thought it might make you feel better if you could… hit something." He minced delicately to the strategist's side, losing some of his shyness. Sima Yi cocked his head and stared at Zhang He, as if seeing him for the first time. Zhang He gathered his courage and stepped closer, their bodies just barely touching.

"You could hit _me_," he breathed, trembling. "I don't mind. You can call me names, too. I won't get upset…" The slap was open-palmed and without warning, and the force of it rocked Zhang He's head back. He tasted copper in his mouth, and the pain was sharp, stinging, delicious. He looked at Sima Yi and smiled, eyes bright and shining. It was to be the first of many blows he would receive, and the first of many smiles he would give for them. The second slap was more powerful than the first, and then he was being forced to his knees by his ponytail, feeling fingers wind themselves painfully tight in his silky black hair. He knelt, looking up at Sima Yi with wide-eyed worship, like a devotee before a god, hands clutching at the divine robes, and Sima Yi looked at him with nothing but empty coldness tinted with desire. If Sima Yi was a god, he was a cruel and heartless one, and that made Zhang He love him all the more. When Sima Yi was finished with him, he had gotten dressed and left Zhang He on the floor of his study, naked, bruised, bleeding, and overcome with joy. The offering had been accepted, the god had deemed it worthy and found it pleasing. Their trysts were frequent and increasingly violent, and always ended with Zhang He being alone. At some point, their meetings had been moved to the dungeon, where Sima Yi had made use of the various chains, shackles, and gags. One incident that stood out in recent memory was the time he had almost been choked to death by a chain collar Sima Yi had wrapped around his throat, pulling it tighter and tighter as he neared his climax.

Zhang He remembered clawing at his throat, his vision fading and going black around the edges, unable to beg for it to stop, and Sima Yi pleasuring himself with Zhang He's helpless body, smiling and laughing. He pretended he thought it was hot, and that it hadn't bothered him, but after Sima Yi left, he had cried. He had spoken to Zhen Ji, his close friend and confidant, about the incident the next morning. She told him what she had said the very first time he'd asked what she thought of his relationship: "He's going to end up killing you." Up until that point, he hadn't believed her. Now he thought she might be on to something. He stared hard at the drop of blood that screamed and screamed and screamed at him, and realized with a start that he had no idea what it was trying to tell him.

**For those of you who are familiar with "Beautiful" and want to know why I'm not being a good little author and working on it, it's simply because I need a break from that story for a while. This one is completely unrelated, just a random idea that was bouncing around in my brain and refused to leave. I was originally going to make this a one-shot, but now I'm not sure. What say you, eh? Leave it, or keep going and do the Sima Yi POV?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch. 2**

**Disclaimer: "I'd like to love you, but my heart is a sore."**

Sima Yi unlocked the shackles around Zhang He's hands and let him fall, exhausted, to the stone floor. He made no effort to catch him or help him up, and it would never have occurred to him to do so. He turned to put on his robes when Zhang He called out, "Wait… please…" He finished getting dressed before turning his attention to the man on the floor. "What is it now?" He snapped, irritated. Zhang He gazed up at him, anxious but determined. "Can I come with you?" Sima Yi stared, disbelieving. "Excuse me?" Zhang He's eyes darted nervously, and he fidgeted with his hair. "I… I just…want to go with you. To your room." The startegist's eyes narrowed. "Why?" The long haired general cringed, and stammered out, "I just want to...to be with you. Please?" Sima Yi considered. He had work to do, and Zhang He would be a distraction. "No," he said firmly. "I'm busy. Besides, we're finished here. You should go get cleaned up. You're bleeding quite heavily, and the whip marks might get infected. You could get sick." _And then you'll be of no use to me_, he added silently. He started to walk off when Zhang He called out again. "Please! I won't talk or anything, I promise! Please, I only want to be with you!" Sima Yi turned slowly to face Zhang He. "I believe I said 'no'. I don't remember saying this was up for discussion." His voice was dangerously calm. Zhang He scooted backwards from his spot on the floor until he hit the wall, eyes wide and terrified. "I'm sorry my lord, I didn't mean to—" "Aggravate me? But you're so _good_ at it, my dear. You must try very hard." "No! Please, I didn't mean to!" There were the beginnings of tears in his eyes, and his lower lip trembled.

Sima Yi crossed the room quickly and dug his fingers in Zhang He's glorious hair, roughly yanking him to his feet by it. He slammed the taller man against the wall and brought his face close. "You hurt so _pretty_, you know that?" He whispered, one hand squeezing Zhang He's buttock in an iron grip that made the abused general cry out in pain. The grimace that twisted his face should have been hideous. Instead, it made him look ethereal, lovely. "I _hate_ pretty things. Did you know that? I like to take pretty things and make them ugly. One of my favorite things to do is by a beautiful painting, take it home, and throw ink all over it. I like smashing those figurines that take years to carve out of precious jewels. I like to watch them shatter. I can break anything, if I try hard enough. Even people. I _love_ to break pretty _people_. But you… you just keep getting prettier, damn you! Those black eyes I give you really bring out your eye color. Bruises and blood make what's left unharmed even more perfect. No matter how many times I split your lips, they stay luscious. So I try even _harder_ to make you ugly. And the more I hurt you, the more gorgeous you get. At first I thought that I should kill you. But that wouldn't make you ugly, would it? You'd just be a beautiful corpse. Until you start to rot, that is. So maybe I should just cover every inch of your magnificent body with scars. Do you think that would work, dear?"

Zhang He closed his eyes. "Why on earth would you hate beauty?" he whispered. Sima Yi threw his head back and laughed, throwing Zhang He against the opposite wall. "No, of course _you_ wouldn't understand. Poor, lovely Zhang He, of c_ourse_ you wouldn't _ge_t it. So I'll tell, since you're so damn interested. Since you're so damn _beautiful_." He ran a hand through his chestnut brown hair, which was short and cut close to his head. It made a stark contrast to Zhang He's knee-length, jet-black tresses. "Do you want to know why you make me angry, dear? Why _everything_ beautiful makes me angry? It's because you have no right to be. The world is hideous, and it has no place for pretty things. You simply have no right to exist. I hate you and everything else that's beautiful, because you make the rest of us look so damn _ugly_ in comparison. Beauty promises the world lies, like hope, and love. But those things are useless, dear, and they get people killed for stupid reasons. Commoners rebel against invading armies because they think that the land they live on is beautiful, and it gives them hope. People look for beautiful spouses and claim that they're in love. The commoners are slaughtered, the spouse becomes ugly and is cast aside for one more attractive. Useless lies." Zhang He stared up at him with blank eyes. "Love isn't a lie." He told him. "I love you, and I know that isn't a lie." Sima Yi laughed cruelly. "You _would_ think you're in love with me, wouldn't you? Even if you _are_ fool enough to believe you're in love, you must still admit that it's quite useless. After all, you're nothing to me but a good _fuck_. Surely you know _that_, my dear."

Now it was Zhang He who laughed. Sima Yi furrowed his brow, perplexed and angry. Zhang He was supposed to be breaking, not laughing. He was gorgeous when he laughed. "You _wish_ I was just a good fuck. But you wouldn't find me so eternally attractive if that's all I was to you. I'd look broken, just like anything else. You _feel_ something for me. I doubt it's love, but it's still _something_. And I'm willing to bet that's more than you've ever felt before, isn't it? That's why I always seem so pretty to you, no matter how badly you hurt me. You could cover my flesh with scars, just like you said, but I'd still look lovely to you. _That's_ why you hate me, _dear_. Because you can't stand the fact that you _care_ about me." Now he stood, and it was Sima Yi who backed away this time. "And let me tell you something else, _dear_. I'm not as weak as I like to let you think I am. And you're not _nearly_ as strong as I let you think _you_ are. I'm a soldier, remember? I could kill you with my bare hands. And I'm not stupid, either. I've been playing things your way this whole time, but you know what? I'm done, now. I woke up this morning, and there was blood on my sheets. I didn't know what it meant then, but I do now. It means that it's time to end this."

Sima Yi was speechless as Zhang He brushed passed him and stated getting dressed. He didn't bother claiming that he didn't care for him, that it wasn't true. They both knew it was. Zhang He turned to him, fully dressed and utterly in control. "I love you, Sima Yi. But I'm done letting you hurt me. I'm done letting you use me. When you're able to deal with your feelings like a healthy individual, come and find me. We can try again. Maybe we'll be able to work things out. But until then, just remember: the only reason you were ever able to hurt me is because I let you. And I'm not letting you anymore." And with that, he left. Sima Yi stood alone in the dungeon, staring at where Zhang He had been. He had a lot of mixed feelings about what had just taken place, and he wasn't sure what to make of them. He _did_ know that he felt empty after Zhang He left, and a terrible sense of loss, which he didn't understand. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, dammit! Zhang He wasn't _allowed_ to leave him. Not like this. He'd left anyway, though. Sima Yi began to make his way out of the dungeon. He wanted Zhang He to come back, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. Sima Yi would have to go to _him_. He'd have to work some things out, first, and it would take some time, but he could do it. He smiled. He still couldn't believe what Zhang He had said, how he'd just walked out on him like that. He supposed that was what they called tough love.

**THE END**

**Ta-daa! Alright, Zhang He! Girl Power! Err…something. Yeah, so that's it for this story. Short and simple, right? Oh, and really messed up. Can't forget about that. Sima Yi needs some serious counseling. I bet he got made fun of a lot when he was a kid. Jesus, this fic was disturbing to write. Sometimes I think I need a straight jacket for my mind…**


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